


Malfunction

by lost_spook



Category: Blake's 7, Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Community: b7friday, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The teleport's broken again, and Vila's alone - but that's just business as usual.  The really worrying thing is that someone's turned up to fix it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Неполадка](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10315955) by [Kollega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kollega/pseuds/Kollega)



> Written for a Random pairing prompt of Silver/Vila, and the 'time' challenge at b7friday on LJ. (Except for it winding up not particularly shippy, and being about 1000 words over-length, of course...)
> 
> No spoilers for either series.

It happened the second he’d teleported everyone else off the ship. Suddenly, the control panel was full of flashing lights, followed by a small explosion and a shower of sparks. At the same moment, the Liberator darkened temporarily.

Vila yelled, and ducked instinctively. When it seemed to be over, he re-emerged, waved smoke out of his face, and then leant forward: “Avon? Cally?” He paused. “Anyone?”

There was no answer. Vila sighed. This planet hadn’t seemed promising even by their standards, so he’d been looking forward to a bit of peace and quiet alone here instead. He should have known _that_ wasn’t going to happen. 

He hurried back to the flight deck to demand answers from Zen, but the computer didn’t seem to think anything had happened. Since the lights flickered again at that moment, and Zen stopped halfway through his sentence without noticing, Vila didn’t believe it.

He shrugged, and returned to the teleport to try again. “Avon? Cally, if you can hear me -”

“It doesn’t seem likely that they can, does it?”

Vila lifted his head slowly to find a man sitting at the teleport controls, trying to prise off the cover. The newcomer raised his head and smiled at Vila in the _I’m-perfectly-harmless-don’t-shoot-me_ way that Vila frequently used himself. That wasn’t very reassuring, either, when he thought about it. The man was wearing an archaic grey suit, and while he didn’t appear to be armed or dangerous, he’d managed to arrive on the Liberator out of nowhere, which shouldn’t be possible, not with the teleport out of action, anyway.

“There’s been a malfunction, hasn’t there?”

Vila edged a fraction nearer the flight deck. “I know that. Who are you, though – and how did you get in here?”

“I’m a teleport engineer, come to fix the fault. What else?” The man smiled again.

Vila took one more step back. That wasn’t only the unlikeliest explanation he’d heard in a long while, the thing was, he’d found himself _wanting to believe it_. So, the stranger was more than he seemed, and possibly alien, playing with his mind. “I’m warning you – I’m armed!”

“Oh?” said the man. “You have invisible weapons?”

“Okay, maybe not armed as such, but there’s a really sophisticated security system on board and…” Vila trailed off. “Hang on. There _is_ a really sophisticated security system on board, or there’s supposed to be. Zen, can’t you warn me when there’s an intruder?”

++No intruder is currently on board the Liberator.++

“All right, then, who’s this I’m hallucinating?”

++Silver is not an intruder. Silver is in my data files. Silver has always been. Silver.++

Vila halted and gave Silver a sharp look. That was worrying on so many levels, but the worst thing was Zen’s tone. He hated even to think this, but it sounded different, almost… well, adoring. It was enough to make his hair stand on end. If Zen was on the intruder’s side, then he was in more trouble than he’d thought, and he’d been worried enough already. 

“Your computer is very unusual,” said Silver, wistfully. “And your _ship_ …” Then he stopped himself and stared back down at the controls. “There isn’t time.”

_He could get a weapon, if he was quick; maybe even reach the escape pods or something…_

“Well, you _could_ ,” said Silver, beginning to sound mildly impatient, as if it were unreasonable of Vila to suspect an intruder who was currently reading his mind. “But wouldn’t it be better if you helped me instead? I imagine you want your friends back?”

“I might not. My friends aren’t always very friendly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Silver. He gave a tiny shrug. “But even so… You want them back, and I’m here to help. I’m not sure how yet, but your teleport device connected with a radio tower in 1980. The consequences will be catastrophic – unless I can stop it.”

“Are you telling me Avon and everyone else is in 1980?”

“No,” said Silver, as the ship’s power faded and returned again, casting shadows over his face. “I don’t know where they are. They may be trapped outside time; they may not even exist any more.”

“Look, time travel’s impossible. So is Avon not existing. The universe wouldn’t have the nerve.”

“Yes,” said Silver, “and no.”

Vila folded his arms. “Say I believe you? How are you going to mend time, and what’s it got to do with me?”

“My colleagues are at the other end of the distortion – on Earth, in 1980. They’re keeping time from escaping there, but the damage is spreading and the tear is along space as well as time. If I don’t fix the fault, then time will break out on an unimaginable scale. Everything will be destroyed, starting with my colleagues, and after that, everything, everywhere, everywhen. And that really _should_ be impossible.”

“Yes, but who are you?”

“Your computer told you. I’m Silver. We don’t have much _time_ left, so, if you could answer some questions-” Then he stopped; his head down against the teleport control panel. “Aha! I’ve tracked the link and – now, that _is_ odd -”

“What?”

“The connection was made through another device,” said Silver, frowning, and peering inside the controls. “Possibly it was deliberate – but the device would have to be very sophisticated. I don’t know what could do that, but then, of course, this is the future. Perhaps you might be able to identify it?”

Vila crossed over to look. “Another device -? Wait. You’re telling me Orac’s done something to the teleport that’s going to end the universe hundreds of years ago?”

“I may be, yes. Orac?”

“He _said_ he’d made some improvements.” Vila sat down next to the other. Silver was probably crazy, and dangerous, but when it came to Orac, nothing was impossible. And given that Silver could influence Zen, he could have done something nasty to Vila by now if he’d wanted. What was more, Silver hadn’t shouted at him, either, or threatened him, waved a gun in his face, or tried to hit him, and he was at least pretending to be friendly. Believing him seemed better than risking the universe ending if he didn’t. “Okay, then, what do we do?”

“Now I’ve found the problem, I can break the connection. It’s surprisingly simple – as long as nothing tries to stop me. Give me a few moments, and then all you need to do is operate that switch.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Nothing,” said Silver, glancing back at him with an almost-smile. “Only, once I’ve finished, I need time to return, so I’d like it if you would count to one hundred first.”

Vila leaned back. “Giving you all the time you need to scarper and then, what, blow the ship up?”

“If I asked nicely,” said Silver, “I’m sure your obliging computer would activate the self-destruct sequence – _if_ that was what I wanted. For now, you can be quiet while I work.”

For that, Vila decided not to give him back his antique fob-watch. (Which he hadn’t meant to take, of course; he’d found it in his pocket before he thought. Habit was a terrible thing. Or, then again, it paid to keep in practice.)

“Done,” said Silver, only a few minutes later. The lights darkened again, and he glanced upwards. “And I’ve made sure your clever little machine won’t be able to do _that_ again.”

“And this is the bit where you go and I sit here like a mug, counting to a hundred?”

Silver gave a small shrug as he packed up his case of tools. “You may operate the switch now, if you want. Your friends will reappear, and none of this will ever have happened. The break will be closed.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know, which is why I _would_ prefer it if you counted first.”

“Oh, right. Very heroic of you.” He raised an eyebrow in scepticism.

Silver shook his head. “Oh, no. I’m not very brave. But nothing could be worse than what’s coming down that line after me if you don’t.” Then he pocketed his tools, and took Vila by the hand.

“Hey -”

Silver only gave him a look, and placed Vila’s hand over the switch, holding it there gently for a moment before he released him. Vila said nothing, because while he might believe Silver, he didn’t trust him, but, well… for a minute there he had an insight into what had got into Zen earlier. He might have blushed. He _really_ hoped he hadn’t. 

“I need to go now. The rest is up to you, Vila.” 

With that, Silver faded away. Vila looked down at his hand on the controls. He didn’t like the idea of the fate of the universe being down to him, nor wondering whether the thing Silver had mentioned was likely to turn up before or after he’d finished counting.

Still, he started counting, anyway. Anything appeared here, he had his hand right on the switch and he knew how to use it. He got to eighty-six and stopped, because that was when it occurred to him that Silver had _known_ he would give him the time. That was what that last-minute flirting had been about.

Vila frowned, and reached for the stolen watch instead of counting on – only to find his lockpick in its place. And that definitely had been elsewhere earlier. _Well, if that little whatever-the-hell-he-was were still here_ , he thought, I’d – I’d -

He stopped that line of thought, because he suspected that if Silver had time to stay and talk about the etiquette of thievery, the most likely outcome would have been some weird psychic fourway between Silver, Vila, Zen and the ship. And once he’d thought that, the only thing left to do was flick the switch and hope he really was going to forget all of it, especially _that_. And that the universe wouldn’t end, and that nothing would come out of the teleport and eat him. And that the Liberator wouldn’t blow up, because Silver had messed with his head more than he’d realised, if he had thoughts like that one creeping about in his brain.

What actually happened was that, a split second later, it was twenty minutes earlier, and everyone was on the point of leaving again.

“Vila,” said Avon. “I said, get on with it.”

Vila shook himself, and put a hand to his head. “Hang about, didn’t we just do this?”

“No, unfortunately. We could have been there and back twice by now if you’d move a little faster. Hurry up, Vila!”

 _Déjà vu_ , thought Vila, and did as he was asked, in the hope of a little peace and quiet for a change.


End file.
